Watch me// Ryden • Brallon

11. Spinder

Dallon stared around his room, wincing at the memories of Brendon that accompanied each dent in the wall, each borrowed tshirt.

He'd chucked away dying flowers, rubbed out Brendons name on his notebooks, he'd even taken down the photographs, but they'd left scar-like patches on the walls.

He hadn't prepared for this, this was meant to be a forever thing, and now there were drilled holes in the walls, and browning petals spilling out of his trash. It felt like something had died, and in a way, it had.

It was band practice today, and Dallon was determined to go, he didn't care if Brendon was there, this was his and his best friends band. It had nothing to do with his lying ex.

He still flinched when Brendon walked through the door, suddenly the centre of attention, but thats where he normally was, whatever he did, he got stares. Thats where he lived, and maybe Dallon was bitter, or maybe this was another act. They used to sigh at Brendons lack of punctuality, but perhaps it was just to make an entrance, to keep everyones eyes on him.

He lifted a hand in greeting and went over to the mic and adjusted it. Not stopping to talk, to let on his feelings, that was best done when he could pretend he was just singing the lyrics with his usual emotion.

He flicked through the songs he was meant to practice, he looked over the love songs and cursed under his breath, before turning around holding 'western dreams' up, to him, it wasn't a love song, more of a revolutionary tune. But he caught the glance between Ryan and Dallon, understood the raised eyebrow and the retuned smirk. It hurt to see that, to see Ryllon back to perfection, to see how unbothered Dallon was, or at least seemed to be.

They didn't play as well as usual, the connection that a band needs to have was weak, but each part was played with a rare passion, rare intensity, reserved for people with broken hearts who pretended they were fine.

Spencer had caught onto something, but he didn't know what, he'd guessed that Brallon was no more, the lack of making out in a corner said enough, but he needed to know the full truth, or as much as Dallon would tell, so they took him to the park for icecream and explanations.

They'd just finished the story. Or at least and edited version of it. Dallon telling most of it as Ryan was very biased in his favour. They were together again. Unfortunately not in a couple way, but in a puzzle pieces way. In a Ryllon way.

Spencer wasn't really listening, his eyes on a blonde girl ordering mint-choc-chip. Dallon stopped talking and he didn't notice.

"You should tell her you think she's pretty, say its in a non-romantic way?" Ryans advice was dubious, but he'd had enough of facades of friendship and lies about love, so it was well intentioned.

"But...."

"No buts" Dallon seconded Ryan, before catching his eye and smirking "apart from hers, obviously"

Spencer flushed, but with much cajoling from the other two, walked over to the girl.

"Uh, hi, umm, not in a weird way or...like I, I only want to be with my soulmate, but you're, um, really pretty"

Dallon sighed from across the grass, second hand embarrassment throwing him into Ryans shoulder, who wasn't complaining.

The girl only smiled though
"Thanks, I'm Linda, you?"

"Linda?" Spencer glanced down at his wrist again and then back at the girl "im-im Spencer"

She stopped suddenly, and turned around to properly face him, take in his newly washed hair and nervous smile. She didn't say anything, just held up her wrist, Spencer written in italics across it. He drew in a breath, his face turning pink and matched her pose. They looked at their names written forever on each others wrists and Spencer smirked.

"Maybe I did mean you were beautiful in a romantic way"
"Maybe im ok with that"

Dallon should feel sad, shouldn't he, or at least jealous of the easy way his friend fell, the naive way he believed they could last, and maybe they would, maybe they were meant to be, maybe they would be perfect, but all love was tinted blue now.

Dallon caught Ryans gaze and raised an eyebrow, trying to turn this into a joke, because it was better that way, when anything could be laughed off, even the things that shouldn't be.

He was still leaning on the other boy, and this, this was why they were so often perceived to be in love, because perhaps they were, but that was better left unsaid, untouched, while Spencer and Linda flirted and blushed and fall too fast.

Brendon was done, done with everything, done with Dallons reaction, done with each memory of the other boy that haunted his house with a smirk and an innocent laugh. He could still taste him, and wanted to shower, to erase his touch from his memory, but even the bathroom had his ghost residing amongst the towels, had the forgotten echos of his gasps still bouncing off the walls.

Brendon had friends, of course he did, he was the sort of person to draw everyone in, to bat his eyelashes and make everyone fixated with him. However, he didn't have anyone close, anyone to call his own, anyone to tell his secrets to, to be himself around. He thought he'd found that in Dallon, but he'd called him a liar, he'd decided they could never be, just like everyone who he ever fell for would say, Dallon could find someone else, some other Brendon to pretend to love, to be infatuated with while he secretly fell for Ryan.

Brendon could never do that, and it was a curse, and not one he could control, but one that controlled him. He had tried so hard to make this work, but Dallon didn't understand, could never understand, he treated it like it was his punishment, didn't understand what it meant to Brendon, what everything meant to Brendon.

No one did. No one could.